No Time for Apologies (The No Brides Club Book 5) Page 9

  “Frankly, for all of his credentials, I wasn’t impressed with Jon. We were at the edge of our deadline when he told Gregg he needed further validation of his results and wasted time making unnecessary updates in his data. All the way through the project, he questioned me.”

  Kate wondered if Anthony was criticizing Jon’s thoroughness because it delayed the final report slightly or because he saw Jon as a threat. The other senior analyst had made it no secret he wanted a fund manager position—any fund—as David DeBakker had made it no secret at the other meeting last week that he wanted to hire Jon permanently.

  “I disagree,” she said. “I find Jon’s thoroughness and questions about the how and why about our procedures, assumptions, and decisions a positive.” And she’d take his methodical approach to management over her temporary assistant’s know-it-all attitude. The woman went plunging ahead without asking questions, and forcing Kate to redo half her work.

  “It was you he went to for verification,” Anthony said, as if accusing her of some misdoing. “Not the fixed-income fund analyst.”

  “Yes, it was. And …” she addressed Bob. “I found Hana difficult to work with. We have different work styles.” Knowing the difficult career path women had here and at other mutual fund companies, Kate saw no reason to voice other criticism of her temporary assistant, unless specifically asked. She glanced at the clock again. Her appointment time was getting close.

  “Anything else?” Bob asked.

  “I assume now that the special project is finished, Jon is back with the Growth and Income Fund team,” Kate said.

  “Yes,” Bob answered.

  Kate rose and left, with Anthony on her heels.

  “You don’t get it, do you?” he asked as they stepped into the hall.

  “Pardon?” She really needed to get to her appointment, but couldn’t help asking.

  “Cozying up to the competition isn’t the way to get ahead here, especially when you’re in the senior position.”

  Kate turned on him. “Whatever are you talking about?”

  “The Briarwood Tavern.”

  “What about it?”

  “Your little tete-a-tete.

  Kate steeled herself.

  “HR might be interested in it.”

  Not unless Jon tendered a complaint, which was ridiculous. “I have a noon appointment to make.”

  It took everything Kate had not to storm away, and she was shaking by the time she reached her cubicle to grab her purse. DeBakker discouraged office relationships in general, but only boss-subordinate relationships, like hers and Jon’s, were technically against company policy. Only she and Jon didn’t have a personal relationship. And even if he wanted one—which she was sure he didn’t—hadn’t she made it perfectly clear last night that she didn’t? She winced. After he’d almost kissed her. Or she’d imagined he was going to kiss her. Jon wasn’t even here and he had her flustered. Not what she needed when she had to convince a mortgage broker to consider her potential to exceed the financial requirements for a mortgage to buy her apartment and not just her almost-there financial situation.

  Forty minutes later, Kate walked out of the bank buoyed by the fact that the broker said she’d take all of the information Kate had provided under advisement in her recommendation to the underwriting group.

  “Kate,” Jon came up the sidewalk from behind her. “I was looking for you before I left for lunch.”

  She refused to entertain that the warmth she’d felt at Jon’s words was anything more than a carryover of her happiness about getting things rolling to buy her apartment.

  “What’s up?”

  Jon fell into step with her on the side closest to the street. “I’m all yours.”

  Kate stumbled, and Jon took her elbow.

  As much as she admired and appreciated his gallantry, she didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. “Uneven crack in the sidewalk.” She straightened her arm, and he released his hold.

  “Anyway, I finished the project with Gregg’s group. He appreciated the updated data, even if Anthony didn’t.”

  “Don’t I know,” Kate mumbled.

  “Pardon?”

  “I had a meeting this morning with him and Bob.” Kate took a deep breath and let it out. “He, Anthony that is, thinks you did the extra work to show off because you want the Growth and Income Fund Manager position.”

  Jon shook his head. “Maybe I should wear a sign, Temporary Employee: Leaving August 1.”

  Kate laughed half-heartedly. She was as bad as her colleagues. She couldn’t shake the small suspicion that the man doth protest too much. They walked the next half-block in silence.

  “About my swim meet tomorrow …”

  A good opening to talk to him about limiting their relationship strictly to work.

  Jon’s voice dropped. “Don’t feel like you have to come.”

  He didn’t want her to come? She had invited herself. An almost imperceptible slump in his broad shoulders reminded her of the old Jon, the one she owed for all her evilness in high school.

  “Of course I plan to come.”

  “When Grandpa gets up, tell him I’m out checking on the new calf Gavin saw this morning when he rotated the herd to the far field. I’ll be right back in for supper, which”—Jon breathed in the delicious aroma of Dottie’s cooking and his stomach growled—“smells wonderful.”

  “He’s up, then?” she asked. “He’s been resting since three after trekking out to check that calf himself after lunch.”

  “He didn’t take the ATV?”

  “No, you know how he feels about it.”

  “Yeah, an expletive menace to Mother Nature and the tranquility of the country,” as his grandfather had frequently reminded him since he’d bought the vehicle the week Grandpa had come home.

  The kitchen screen door swung closed behind Jon with a bang, and he headed toward said vehicle parked next to the barn, his Australian shepherd, Barney, joining him, tail wagging. Like his grandfather, he bypassed the vehicle in favor of walking. He needed to work off the inactivity of the more-crowded-than-usual train ride home, and the remarks Anthony had made on Jon’s way out of the office.

  Jon kicked a small rock out of his path, and Barney bounded after it. The remarks had begun with “good luck with the ice queen.” It hadn’t taken a lot of brain power to figure out Anthony meant Kate. Nor a lot of testosterone to want to punch the guy in the face. Barney ran back to him and dropped the rock by his feet. Jon picked it up and threw it with all his strength. Anthony had followed that with a warning to him not to think he had the fund manager opening in the bag because of what Dave DeBakker had said at last week’s meeting. According to Anthony, they, whoever they were, liked to keep people on their toes.

  Barney dropped the rock at his feet again with a woof. Jon heaved it again. The two minutes Jon had taken to hear Anthony’s drivel and getting through a crowd clogging the sidewalk because of a construction scaffolding that hadn’t been there this morning, had made Jon miss his usual train. The combination of that and the frustrations of walking the line between wanting to know Kate better personally and possibly jeopardizing her career, had him wondering if the summer gig at DeBakker was worth it.

  The heifer that had birthed this morning hadn’t had any problems, and Dottie’s grandson had spotted her right off and stayed with her. But Jon couldn’t help thinking he should have been there instead. This was his, and Grandpa’s, operation and more valuable in the long run than what he was learning at DeBakker. Even though he was learning a lot. And then there was Kate.

  Jon looked at the red-orange sun sitting just above the horizon. There was no way he could deny that something was going on between them, something he wanted to see out to its conclusion, even if that meant just getting her out of his system. That conclusion was unlikely to happen if he left now.

  Barney returned without the rock and barked.

  “What is it boy?”

  The dog lifted his nose and barked aga
in toward the field.

  “Ah, you’ve found our new mother. Let’s check her and the baby out.”

  Barney wagged his tail and walked alongside Jon.

  Jon got as close as he could without spooking the cow. “Hi, Momma,” he crooned, “I just want to see how you and your baby are doing.” The heifer lifted her head and her nostrils twitched. Baby continued to nurse. “Looking good.”

  He walked a step closer and the heifer mooed a warning. He stopped and inspected the calf from where he was. He and Gavin would tag and immunize the calf once mother and baby had forged a strong bond.

  “Come on, Barney.” Jon turned and headed back toward the house, his earlier problems and questions overshadowed for the moment by the miracle of new life.

  Chapter 8

  Kate paid the Uber driver for the ride from the Poughkeepsie train station, at the north end of the New York Metro North line, to the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park, where the Masters swim meet was. She adjusted her shoulder bag before heading around to the athletics facility facing the Hudson River.

  Her heart rate ticked up with each step. She slowed her pace. She’d vowed to maintain a strictly professional relationship with Jon, and then, she’d invited herself to his swim meet. Kate curled her lips in disgust. Because she’d imagined he was going to kiss her Thursday night in her apartment building elevator. When her alarm had gone off this morning, she’d toyed with not coming. But she would have needed an excuse she didn’t have. Simply not showing up would have been rude, and she’d given Jon enough rude in the past.

  The main building behind her, Kate saw the athletic building and her breath caught, not because of the building, but at the surrounding view. While the Hudson retained some of its beauty where it flowed past New York City into the Atlantic, parts of the mid-Hudson Valley north could take your breath away. She breathed in slowly and breathed out, the serene river view washing away most of the jitters that had been wreaking havoc with her insides. It wasn’t that she never associated with her coworkers outside of the office. She’d been to holiday parties at Bob and his wife’s condo and a fourth of July party at Kim’s house in New Jersey.

  And the No Brides Club had universally agreed that you needed to see all sides of your professional competition, know as much as you could about them. Not that Jon was competition, or at least he maintained he wasn’t. But he’d been to her apartment, and the swim meet was a more neutral place to see him outside of work, more so than a weekend at his grandfather’s place as Jon had suggested on their way home from their trip to Genesee. By the time Kate pulled open the glass door of the athletic facility, she’d almost convinced herself that she’d come to the meet as an extension of work, not because she had any personal interest in seeing Jon in action.

  Kate followed the signs to the pool area, the strong smell of chlorine hitting her even before she stepped into the warm clammy atmosphere of the pool area itself. She spotted an empty seat at the top of the bleachers close to the door and turned in that direction before stopping herself with a silent coward. Jon had given her his grandfather’s cell phone number, so she could text him when she arrived and he could direct her to where he was sitting. Jon had assured her it would give her a good view of the races. Somehow, sitting with Jon’s grandfather struck her as too personal, too family-like. But she was sure his grandfather would be expecting her text.

  She pulled out her phone.

  Hi, it’s Kate, Jon’s friend.

  What was she, 10? She deleted Jon’s friend.

  I’m by the door closest to the diving boards.

  Dolphins’ side? Jon’s grandfather texted back.

  How would she know? Kate’s gaze darted around for another landmark and saw a man in the front row behind one of the teams rise with some effort and wave to her. She waved back. Dolphin side, she guessed, starting toward him, walking on the pool deck behind a few swimmers in kelly green swimsuits. She didn’t see Jon, but noted the team was co-ed. Not that it mattered. She’d just assumed it was a male team.

  “Kate.” Jon’s grandfather held his hand out to her as she approached.

  “Mr. …” She stopped. This was Jon’s maternal grandfather. She had no idea what his name was.

  “Pete Meyer.”

  “Mr. Meyer.” Kate took his hand and stepped up the footrest to the first-row seat beside him.

  “Pete is fine,” he said, as she sat and placed her bag on the other side of her. “Glad you got here early. I didn’t know how long I would be able to keep your seat for you.”

  She gazed around at the smattering of spectators and didn’t think he would have had much of a problem with that.

  “Looking for Jon?” Pete smiled, and Kate was struck by his resemblance to his grandson.

  “He’s warming up,” the older man continued without waiting for her to answer. “Lane two, near the diving board wall.”

  Kate caught two powerful strokes gliding the swimmer to the wall, followed by Jon pushing himself up and out of the pool with graceful ease. Then he rose to a standing position, her mouth went dry. He was everything she’d imagined when he’d first told her about his swimming—and then some.

  Beside her, Pete chuckled.

  She flushed. He couldn’t know what she’d been thinking. He wouldn’t say anything to Jon, would he? Kate glanced sidewise at Pete, who was focused on the pool. No, he was Jon’s grandfather. Grandfathers didn’t talk with their grandsons about women. Did they?

  “I see you found Grandpa,” Jon said.

  “Yes.” When had he walked over? She’d been so busy playing improbable scenarios in her head that she hadn’t noticed. Kate worked at keeping her gaze on his face, with a peek or two at his shoulders, chest, and biceps. Jon certainly hadn’t looked like this in high school. Her gaze wandered to his abs. No one had looked like that in high school.

  “The meet will get going soon, so I need to get back to the team.”

  She jerked her gaze up, and caught a hint of self-satisfied male in his smile before he turned to leave. She clenched her hands into fists on her lap. Jon had known she was ogling him and had liked it. Kate unfurled her fingers. She’d liked what she’d seen, too.

  “Did Jon warn you that these meets can be boring? I usually bring a book to fill the time between his events.”

  “He warned me. I have my tablet to do some work I brought with me. Do you often come to his meets?”

  “As often as I can. He’s my only grandchild and I didn’t see him much when he was growing up. The farm was dairy then. It was hard for me to get coverage so I could get away. Callie, my wife, would go without me.”

  “I know what you mean. My parents have a dairy farm.”

  “Right. Jon told me and that you left at 18 and never looked back.”

  Kate bristled inside. She reminded herself that she was talking to an elder, Jon’s grandfather—who apparently, Jon did talk to about her. “I wouldn’t say that. I went to NYU and found that city life fit me better than country life.”

  “Jon thought that, too. Then …”

  The sound system came on with the announcement of the first race, and Pete never finished his thought.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Kate studied his profile, so like Jon’s. Or maybe he had finished by implication. Jon had chosen to work in Boston, and then had come back to help his grandfather.

  She watched the swimmers lining up on the starting blocks for the first race, one Jon wasn’t competing in. She wasn’t so sure Jon couldn’t be just as comfortable in the city.

  Or maybe she hoped he could be.

  Jon surfaced from his dive into the pool for his last event, the final of the freestyle relay, to the familiar rush of sound echoing off the tiled walls. He imagined Kate’s voice was in the sound, which cost him a nanosecond of time he didn’t have. He blanked out her imagined cheering and put his all into the race. His team was depending on him to close the gap between them and the opposing relay team now in first place. At the last t
urn, he pushed ahead but with every breath could see his competition in the adjacent lane breathing down his neck. He drew on muscle reserve he didn’t know he had and touched the finish wall, feeling more than seeing his closest competitor almost right with him.

  Jon lifted his head out of the water and locked gazes with Kate. She lifted her hand in a victory sign and his pounding heart pounded harder.

  “Good swim,” a deep voice beside him said.

  Jon yanked his gaze away, catching his personal best time as he turned to nod to the guy beside him, who’d come in second.

  “You, too,” Jon said with sincere admiration. The guy was older, probably had 20 years on him. He’d been surprised the opposing team had him swimming anchor, the position usually reserved for the fastest person on the relay team. Now he knew why. Jon wanted to be like him in 20 years.

  Something inside tugged his attention back to Kate, and his thoughts went back to the elderly couple at the train station the weekend he and Kate had driven to Genesee and the conversation the two of them had had. Jon pulled himself from the pool and his teammates gathered to congratulate him. Where would he and Kate be in 20 years? Impossible to project. He didn’t even know where they were now, although he had an inkling of where he wanted them to be.

  The relay was his last event, but Jon stayed with the team for the rest of the meet. He and his teammates, as the host team, stood in line at the end of the meet to shake hands with the other competitors. Jon looked over to where his grandfather and Kate were sitting. His stomach flip-flopped. Or had been sitting. Only Grandpa was there now. He rolled his shoulders to shrug off his disappointment and offered a perfunctory nod to their opponents, his mind locked on Kate. She must have left to catch the train home. She’d wanted to see a meet, and she had. What more had he been expecting?

  Jon headed to the locker room with the others. He’d been hoping to have dinner with Kate—and Grandpa, his mind added as an afterthought. Of course, he hadn’t mentioned that to Kate. He kicked himself for the bouts of arrested development he kept suffering when it came to her. He should have invited her to dinner and to stay over at the house. He didn’t like the idea of her getting into the city after dark, which it would be if they went to dinner. But since she’d apparently left, that wasn’t a problem.